Chapter Text
The sound of footfalls on pavement was the only sound echoing through the courtyard of the Avengers compound. The Dora Milaje formed a semicircle in front of the former Avengers, putting on a good show of protecting the king, when in reality they were tasked with watching the former Avengers.
T’Challa walked several yards in front of them, approaching the compound doors confidently. Access to the compound was closely monitored, so Steve and Natasha assumed they would have to wait to be given access, but were surprised when, instead, T’Challa flashed a holographic ID card to a camera above the doors, and they were allowed to enter.
“King T’Challa,” FRIDAY greeted, warmly, “I’m afraid Boss is dealing with a personal matter right now, but he will be in shortly to—“
FRIDAY cut off, and there was a short moment of silence before chaos erupted in the entryway. First, there was the jingling of metal, and the racket of claws on hard flooring, and then:
“STEVEN!”
Steve stood to attention, confused but ready for a fight, as Tony’s voice rang through the compound. But, it quickly became apparent that Tony was not talking to him, as he finally came into view, sprinting after a large black dog.
“STEPHEN! Catch the damn dog!”
Just as Tony passed T’Challa and the former Avengers, an orange portal opened beside him, and a curly haired man stepped out.
“I’m trying!” The man, Stephen, exclaimed, sharply, as he stepped back through the portal, another one quickly opening further down the hall.
This time, he seemed to have appeared in the right place, and the dog skidded to a stop in front of him, panting. Stephen raised his hands, as if in surrender, moving forward very slowly.
“Alright, girl…” he began.
“She’s dripping all over my floor!” Tony screeched, quietly.
The wet, clearly freshly washed, dog’s ears perked up, and she turned her head suddenly, looking at Tony intently. Tony quickly paled.
“Oh, shit.”
Stephen dove past the dog, towards Tony, bringing up his cloak to shield them both. The dog shook wildly, spraying water in every direction. When she finally stilled, Stephen slowly lowered the cloak, eying the dog wearily.
“Little shit knows exactly what she’s doing,” Tony said, scowling.
The dog barked, once, as if in reply, and then began panting happily, tongue dangling out of her mouth. Stephen laughed, loudly, warmth lighting up his eyes. Tony rolled his eyes, not covering up the fondness within them, and held out the end of the leash he was holding.
“You’ve had your fun, dear, c’mon,” he said, gesturing for the dog to come to him.
She did, without protest, and he slipped the leash onto her collar. As he straightened back up, T’Challa cleared his throat, drawing their attention.
“T’Challa!” Tony’s exclaimed, seeming genuinely pleased to see the king.
A smile grew on T’Challa’s face as they met for a handshake, which quickly devolved into a hug.
“FRI, you didn’t tell me they were here,” Tony said to his AI, inquiry clear in his voice.
“You were otherwise occupied, Boss,” she replied, amused.
Tony smiled sheepishly.
“Sorry about that. My protégé found her in front of Stephen’s sanctum, and fell in love. Now I have to keep her around, lest I break his heart,” he commented lightheartedly, passing the leash off to Stephen in a familiar gesture.
Tony opened his mouth to continue speaking, but was cut off by another throat clearing, this time, by Steve. Slowly, Tony’s eyes moved over to him. He pulled his yellow aviator sunglasses down, and peered over them, as if to see him better.
“Oh, that’s so not my job,” he declared, condescendingly.
Just as he said it, a sharply-dressed woman with a sleek black bob walked into the entryway.
“No, it’s mine,” she said, formally.
“Hope,” he said, relief evident in his voice.
She came to stand next to him, looping and arm through his.
“This is Hope Pym, she’s currently acting as my P.A., as well as being an active member of the New Avengers roster,” he introduced.
She reached out to shake King T’Challa’s hand, before nodding detachedly to the rest of the room.
“Pym? Is it sound business practice to trust your rival’s daughter?” Natasha said, disapproval subtle, but evident, clearly hoping to catch him in a fuck-up.
“Hope Pym neé van Dyne, Miss Romanov,” she said, with a finality that suggested this explained everything.
“Hope’s mother, Janet van Dyne, was a close friend,” Tony explained, to T’Challa rather than the rest of the room.
T’Challa nodded, sympathy clear in his eyes, having noticed the use of past tense, but not wanting to derail the conversation further. Hope returned the gesture.
“Moving on to business,” she said, pointedly, “the fleet of cars that will take us into the city will arrive after training, as scheduled. Once in the city, there will be a meeting with the ground teams at Stark Tower.”
She turned to Tony.
“Give Spider-Man a call and warn him there will be company,” she said, and then pointed to Stephen, “Don’t distract him before he makes the call,” she demanded, vaguely threatening.
“Yes ma’am,” Stephen replied, a haughty smirk tugging at his lips.
She rolled her eyes, before turning to look at Steve levelly, eyes largely devoid of emotion.
“Mr. Rogers, after the meeting, you and your team will be taken to your accommodations. You will be given a schedule of events during the negotiation period. I would suggest deciding which representatives attend each event with your legal advisors. There will be staff on hand to answer questions and to assist in arranging transportation. King T’Challa,” she said, moving straight along to leave no room for argument, “you may of course send as many of you Dora Milaje as you deem necessary, but, otherwise, both you and your guards are invited to stay at Stark Tower with the rest of us,” She said, smile creeping onto her face, a bit wicked, “Now, we are about to have an open training session. I hope you brought your gear. FRIDAY, show them the way, please.”
As she said this, lights lit on the floor, setting the path to the gym.
“Thank you, Miss van Dyne,” T’Challa said sincerely, showing respect in the hope of setting an example for the former Avengers.
She inclined her head in acceptance, hanging back with Tony as they, at last, moved on, giving her, Tony, and Stephen a moment of privacy.
“Thank you, Hope. Why are you my P.A., again? You have more important things to handle than their damn schedules,” Tony said, scowling.
"Don't think I'm doing this for free; Your last P.A. became CEO, I expect at least my own department," she said, with a sly grin, before sobering, “In all seriousness, Tony, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them away from you. I know it isn't my job to babysit them, but it isn't yours either. Not anymore,” she said, a determined set to her jaw.
“I certainly approve,” Stephen said, causing Tony to grumble indignantly.
“Let’s head to the gym. I, for one, am looking forward to showing these assholes up. Let’s show them what a real team looks like.”
Natasha was doing the splits, stretching deftly as Steve moved to slip on his cowl.
“That was… strange,” she said, carefully, measured.
“How do you mean?” Steve asked, turning to face her.
She stood, shifting into a lunge, and then a deeper lunge, before replying.
“A dog, a protégé. A rapport with both a sorcerer and a known enemy. T’Challa having an access card,” she listed.
“What does it mean?” Steve asked.
She fell with a thud into the next stretch, one leg stretched out behind her gracefully.
“I don’t know, Steve. I don’t know."